Overwatch vs TF2
by Lucifer Junior
Summary: After Overwatch is recalled, Redmond and Blutarch realize they could get in serious trouble if they're found out. So, for once in their lives, the brothers put aside their rivalry and pool their resources to send their mercenaries after Overwatch, and anybody associated with them. WARNING: OVERWATCH WILL NOT WIN ANY FIGHT.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hey guys! This is a fanfiction I've been thinking about writing for a while. I really like both Overwatch and TF2, and since a lot of the universe wants to see which is better, I thought a crossover would be fun. Then my sick sadistic side came in, and I decided to have the TF2 characters be hired to kill Overwatch. Just have to say first off, I'm not going for accuracy. This is just Overwatch dying from the mercenaries. I know that not all of this will be accurate, but I just want to have a little fun. Anyways, enjoy!**

 **~666~**

Tracer was sitting in a small bar, with the drink in front of her untouched. She had taken her failure to save Mondatta very hard, and after it was all over, she had gone to one of her favorite bars to drown out her sorrows. The Omnic bartender looked at her and let out a mechanical sigh. "You know, getting drunk is easier if you drink." He said. Tracer didn't look up at him, so he walked away. She heard the door swing open, and saw a skinny man walk into the bar. The bartender walked towards him. "Hello sir, welcome to Remix, would you like something to-" He was cut off by a bang. Tracer looked up startled, and saw the Omnic fall down with a hole in his head. The shot had come from a pistol that was held by the man in red. Looking at him more clearly now, Tracer saw that he was very young, barely out of his teens. He was wearing a red shirt with a grey sack slung across his body, and a pair of dark grey pants that ended a little below his knees, the rest of which was covered by long white socks. He was also wearing a baseball cap of the same color as his pants, and a pair of headphones over it. Tracer could see the handle of a gun poking out of his bag, as well as the handle of what looked like a baseball bat. The man in red holstered his pistol and walked towards Tracer. "So, I hear you're the legendary Overwatch poster girl Tracer, am I right?" He said in a cocky Boston accent. Tracer stood up and got ready to draw her pulse pistols. "That's right. And who might you be?" She asked. The man smirked. "What, you haven't heard of me? I guess livin' in Britain cuts you off from important news. You can call me the Scout, and I've been hired to take you out." He reached behind him and pulled out his gun, which looked like a modified shotgun. He held it out straight at Tracer. "You should get out those silly little pistols of yours. I'd hate to massacre you too brutally." Tracer frowned, and drew her pulse pistols.

The Scout smirked. "Great. Let's get this thing started." He quickly fired a blast from his shotgun, forcing Tracer to duck and roll to the side. She gritted her teeth, and blinked towards him, jumping up and kicking him in the face as soon as she appeared in front of him. He stumbled backwards slightly, but quickly regained his balance, and fired another blast, Tracer blinked to the left, dodging his blast. She opened fire with her pulse pistols, forcing him to roll to the side. Tracer got up and ran towards him. She saw him raise his shotgun, and rolled to the left just in time to dodge the blast. She saw Scout run out the door into the street, and quickly got up to chase after him. She ran out the door, and saw him turning the corner into an alleyway next to the bar. She sprinted after him, and brandished her pistols, only to find the alleyway empty. She looked around, and then slowly started walking into the alleyway, only to jump back when a series of gunshots almost hit her. She looked up to see Scout grinning from a fire escape with his shotgun away and his pistol drawn. He then leapt up onto the railing, and then jumped off, spinning in air. Tracer thought he was insane, but then saw him pulling his legs closer to his body, and then he pushed down like he was jumping, somehow boosting a few inches higher. He grabbed onto the railing of the fire escape above him, and easily pulled himself up, swinging over the railing. Scout turned back towards her, smirking. "Well, Sweet Cheeks? Gonna follow me, or will I have to dunk on ya?" Tracer scowled as Scout laughed and started running up the stairs to the roof. Tracer jumped up and then blinked into the air, hoisting herself over the railing. She blinked up the stairs rapidly, running up the last flight and onto the roof-only to get hit in the face with a baseball bat. She fell onto her back, and when she attempted to get back up, the bat hit her in the head again. Tracer's head was spinning as she tried to focus long enough to trigger her Recall power, only to see that damn bat come down just above her chronal accelerator. "Uh-uh, Sweet Cheeks. You try to use your powers, and my bat busts up your little doohickey." Scout smirked as he stood above the dazed and probably concussed Tracer. He drew his pistol and pointed it right at her head. Tracer looked up at him, the light of defiance still shining bright in her eyes. "You...you won't get away with this." She croaked. "Overwatch will find you and..." "Overwatch?" Scout interrupted. "Well, Overwatch won't be able to find me, because they'll be too busy being killed by the other members of my team. See, we've been hired to take out every member of Overwatch, as well as a couple mercenaries, and some people from something called Talon. Long story short, Overwatch is getting shut down again. For good." A wicked smirk crossed the Scouts face. "Of course, you won't get to see any of this. Bye-bye, Sweet Cheeks." Scout pulled the trigger five times, and Tracer's body went limp as the chrono accelerator flickered out. Scout reached into his bag and put away the bat to grab a can of spray paint, some nails, and a hammer. He carried Tracer's body away, to finish up his mission.

Winston sat at his desk with a grin on his face that had been there since he had recalled Overwatch. He grabbed a tub of peanut butter and a banana and using his feet, went to his favored news website. He unscrewed the peanut butter, but almost dropped it when he saw the headline. **BRITAIN'S FAVORED HERO FOUND BRUTALLY MURDERED.** Stunned, Winston scrolled down and found a picture that nearly killed him. Tracer had been found with her hands and arms nailed to a tree, and with five close bullet holes in her head. Underneath her body was written **SHE WAS THE FIRST. WATCH OUT, OVERWATCH** in bright red paint. Winston gritted his teeth and growled, almost going into Primal Rage then and there. He quickly went to the Overwatch database and sent out a warning to all his friends-at least, those still alive. He growled again, thinking, _I'm sorry Lena. But I promise you this isn't over. I will find whoever killed you, and I will avenge you. Overwatch has been recalled, and whoever did this is going. To. PAY!_

 **AN: Well, that was the first chapter of my new story. Tell me what you thought, how I can improve, what to fix, that kind of thing. And I know Death Battle had a Scout vs Tracer battle, but again, the point of this isn't to be accurate, it's to have TF2 kill Overwatch. Sorry if you don't like how the fight ended, but you know where the door is. Aside from that, thanks again for reading this guys, and see you later!**


	2. German Overwatch members vs TF2

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back with chapter two in hand! Now, I just want to make a quick response to all the people who complimented me about "correcting Death Battles mistake." While I do appreciate the reviews, I actually kind of agree with Death Battles conclusion. In the situation I wrote, however, Scout had the advantage. Tracer was depressed, confused, angry, and didn't know a thing about her opponent. That's why Scout won. Also, quick side note: I don't hate Overwatch. In fact, I think it's an absolutely amazing game. I just had the idea of the TF2 mercenaries taking out Overwatch, and I decided to write it. That's all there is to say on the subject. Now, onto the chapter!**

Torbjörn Lindholm was sitting in a comfortable, overstuffed chair, in the large home owned by his good friend Reinhardt Wilhelm. He, as well as Angela Ziegler, had been invited to Reinhardts home to celebrate Overwatch's recalling. Torbörn looked across the room to see Angela sitting primly on a sofa. He cleared his throat. "So, Angela," Torbjörn began. "Vhen are you leaving to join with the others?" Angela smiled. "I'm on the first flight to America. It's so exciting, isn't it?" Torbjorn grinned. "Indeed, indeed. I'm on the same flight, as it happens. I vouldn't be surprised if Reinhardt was on it too. You know how he can get." Angela chuckled. "Yes, he can be rather exuberant at times, can't he?"

Just then, Reinhardt came rushing out of the kitchen, his face distraught. "Vhere's the remote?" He almost shouted, looking around wildly. Angela quickly reached to the table in front of her and grabbed the remote, then held it out to Reinhardt. He snatched it from her hand and turned on the TV. It flickered on to show a news channel. "Thanks George, now onto current news. In a tragic occurrence, Britain's favored hero and a famous member of Overwatch, Lena Oxton, codenamed Tracer, has been found brutally murdered. She was found nailed to a tree in a small park, with five bullet holes in her head. There was also writing in red paint over her corpse that read, she was the first. Watch out, Overwatch. As far as we know, Miss Oxton has no surviving family. Our hearts go out to all wounded by this terrible tragedy."

The newscaster continued speaking, but all the people in the room tuned it out. Torbjörn bowed his head in sorrow, Angela began to weep softly, and Reinhardts fists clenched, even as tears rolled from his one good eye. "Why?" Angela asked as she cried. "Why would somebody do that to her? She was-" Angela cut herself off as she cried harder. Reinhardt turned and looked at both of them. "I don't know vhy somebody would do this, but I need to know. Do you two have your gear with you?" Both Torbjörn and Angela nodded. "Good. I don't want either of you to let your gear out of your sights until ve're vith the rest of Overwatch. Ve have to be ready in case somebody tries something like zis with us." Reinhardt then ran from the room to his bedroom, where his armor and hammer where waiting.

Angela and Torbjörn unzipped their bags and pulled out their things. Angela glanced at her winged armor and then at Torbjörn, who blushed and turned to face the other way. When Angela gave him the OK, he turned to see Angela once again wearing the suit of the Angel of Mercy. She gave him a soft smile, and turned to allow him to get into his armor. Torbjörn struggled to squeeze on his armor, his gut blocking some of the form fitting armor, but he managed to squeeze into it. Mercy turned back towards him, and he gave her a small grin. Reinhardt came stomping into the room, wearing his armor with his hammer over his shoulder. He looked at both of them, his face hidden behind his helmet. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Mercy walked over to get it, as she was dressed most normally out of the three. She opened the door and said, "Yes, can I-" She was cut off by a giant fist hitting her in the face and sending her flying back into the living room.

As she struggled back onto her feet and grabbed the staff lying next to her, the door opened wider to reveal three figures. As they stepped in, their features became clearer. One was a mountain of a man, as large as Reinhardt with his armor. He was wearing a red T-shirt under a black vest, and had a bandoleer of large rounds around him. He was also wearing fingerless black gloves, and grey pants over his shined black boots. He was mostly bald, with a bit of stubble leading from his face to the back of his head. He was carrying a bag almost as big as him, yet showed no discomfort. The second was a smaller man, wearing a white lab coat with crosses on either shoulder, red rubber gloves, and a pair of dark purplish pants over black boot. He had sharp, pointed features, and was wearing a pair of round glasses. He had an odd backpack on him, and a wicked smile covered his face. The last was an average looking man, wearing a button up red shirt under a pair of dark brown overalls, a belt with pouches and cords dotting it, a yellow rubber glove on one hand, and a yellow hard hat over a pair of goggles. He had stubble covering his face, and was carrying a large duffel bag with him.

The German members of Overwatch readied themselves for battle as the last man closed the door behind him. Immediately, the large man dropped his bag and unzipped it, pulling out a massive minigun. The second man dropped the back pack, revealing some odd device strapped to his back, and pulled some kind of gun from the bag. The last man dropped his bag, and pulled out a shotgun and a wrench. Reinhardt shouted at the three, "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" The second man grinned. "Ah, how rude of us. I am zhe Medic," he said, a thick German accent coating his words. "My large associate is zhe Heavy", he said, indicating the large man, "And our final associate is zhe Engineer." The last man gave a little salute. "Ve are members of the RED team of mercenaries, and ve have been hired to kill all of you." Reinhardt, Torbjörn, and Mercy all readied their weapons as they heard that. The Heavy grinned, raised his minigun, and opened fire. As soon as the bullets began flying, Reinhardt raised his energy shield. As he did that, the Engineer reached into his bag and pulled out a large sentry gun. He set it upright in front of him, and smacked it on the top with a wrench, causing it to jolt to life, and add its own fire to Heavy's. Reinhardt gritted his teeth as his shield began to crack, and dropped the shield as his rockets engaged to send him after the Heavy, while Mercy and Torbjörn took cover. But to his surprise, the large man dropped his minigun, and grabbed Reinhardt's arms as he collided with him, managing to stop Reinhardt in his tracks. Reinhardt growled and poured more energy into his rocket, and grinned as he saw Heavy start to lose ground. But then, the Heavy spun in a circle, dragging Reinhardt with him, and used the rockets to send him crashing through a wall. Heavy charged in after him, as the Medic drew an odd looking gun, loaded with syringes. He took aim and fired, a wave of needles embedding themselves in the walls and furniture around the heroes.

Torbjörn looked at Mercy, who nodded, and aimed her Caduceus Staff at him. A yellow stream of energy flew out and connected to Torbjorn, who felt a rush of energy flow through him. He reached into his bag, pulled out a large stack of metal which he readied for building, and stepped out from behind cover. Instantly, the sentry redirected to fire bullets directly at him. Torbjörn tensed his body as the bullets hit him, but he shouldn't have worried, as the instant the bullets broke his skin, it pulled back together and pushed the bullets out of his body. He grinned, and immediately started using the metal to construct his own turret. He glanced up at the Engineer, who looked very unconcerned. The man reached into his bag and pulled out a large heap of metal, and started upgrading his own turret. Torbjörn gritted his teeth, and the race between the two men to build the turrets was on. Torbjörn was sweating as he rushed to build, but was lagging behind. Fortunately, his suit had been charged before he put it away, and was ready for his special ability. He triggered his reactor's overload, activating Molten Core. His welding mask slid over his face, and his armor changed color, becoming red-hot. Torbjörn grinned as he felt power flow through him, and his hand started moving faster, the turret building faster than it had before. The Engineer scowled, and built faster, adding a rocket launcher to the back. Torbjörn smirked as he brought his turret up to its second level, and it immediately fed off of his excess reactor energy and upgraded itself to stage three. The turret activated and raised up, its gun barrels spinning and the rocket launchers rose up, searching for a target. The turret locked onto the Engineer, and started firing rapidly, forcing the man to dive behind a wall. He looked to the Medic who was behind the opposite wall. The German man nodded and aimed his odd gun at him. He pulled back a lever on the top, which caused a stream of red energy to fly out and hit the Engineer. He grinned and stepped out from his cover, taking all the bullets from the turret. He barely flinched as the bullets ripped through his body, much less when the rockets blew chunks out of his body. As the smoke from the rockets cleared, Torbjörn was shocked to see the man completely unharmed, without even soot from the explosions on his clothes. The Engineer grinned and raised his shotgun and started firing at Torbjörn's turret. The turret tried, but with the combined fire of Engineers shotgun and his turret, caused the turret to explode shortly. Torbjörn regained his senses and started firing at Engineers turret, using all his ammo and aiming for the weak points he saw, managing to bring the turret down.

The Medic stepped out from behind his wall, keeping the stream focused on Engineer with one hand while he pulled out his syringe gun with his other hand. Torbjö rn raised his Rivet Gun to fire at them, but a blast from the Engineers shotgun knocked it out of his hand. Mercy jumped out, aiming her Caduceus Blaster, but a series of syringes from the Medic hit her hand, and based on how it went limp as the blaster fell from her hand, the needles had some sort of drug in them. Mercy gritted her teeth and started running at the men, but was knocked away by an arc of fire. As she collapsed, Torbjörn looked to where the blast had come from, which was the hole Reinhardt had made. As he watched, the large mercenary, Heavy, came lumbering out, Reinhardts hammer slung over his shoulder. He held up a small device similar to the Medics pack. "The Mini Übercharge works perfectly, Doctor." He grinned. "Do you think I can keep this hammer?" He lifted it up, and swung it absentmindedly, launching another Fire Strike at Torbjörn. The dwarf felt the air leave his lungs as a searing pain erupted across his body. He hit the ground hard, grunting in pain. The Medic smirked. "Of course, mein freund. You can have the armor too, if you vant it." Heavy grinned. "Excellent! We had best finish these two first, though." Heavy gestured towards the felled Overwatch members. Torbjörn looked up and saw Angela crawling towards him, her arm no longer numb. Torbjörn grabbed her arm and looked into her eyes. "Go, Angela." Mercy shook her head. "Not without you and Reinhardt. We can escape! I'll distract them, you can-" Torbjörn shook his head. "Overwatch vill need you more than either of us. Besides," He said with a cough. "Even if I get out, I von't recover. You need to leave now, Angela. I'll cover you."

Mercy's eyes teared up, and she hugged Torbjörn hard. She grabbed her Caduceus Staff, the blaster being too far away. Torbjörn heaved himself to his feet, and drew his hammer. Mercy swung her staff and smashed Reinhardt's window, alerting the mercenaries. She spared a moment to look back at the wounded Torbjörn, standing with his hammer in hand. He saw her standing there and almost lost it. "GO!" He screamed. Mercy turned and leapt out of the window, her wings activating and allowing her to fly away. Torbjörn turned to see Reinhardt's hammer coming for his face, and closed his eyes. _Goodbye, Angela. Don't let them catch you. And above all else, don't let Overwatch fail._

And Torbjörn thought nothing else, ever again.

The Medic reached into his labcoat and pulled out a crossbow loaded with a giant syringe. He took careful aim at Mercy's retreating form, and pulled the trigger, launching the giant syringe. The syringe struck Mercy directly in the back, shorting out her wings and sending her plummeting to the ground. The Medic jumped out of the window, and started running to where Mercy had fallen. He found her with one arm obviously broken. She was looking around cautiously, holding the staff out in front of her. The Medic smirked and stepped out in front of her. Mercy noticed him immediately, and charged towards him, swinging her staff. Medic smirked and caught the staff, then backhanded her. Mercy stumbled back, releasing her staff. The medic stepped forward and tossed the staff aside. He knelt down over her. Mercy snarled and punched upwards at him, only for him to catch her arm and punch it, shattering the bone. Mercy screamed in pain as she fell down, with nothing to support her. Medic smiled, and reached into his labcoat, pulling out a blood-splattered bonesaw. Mercy's eyes widened, and she tried to inch away, only for a booted foot to kick her in the stomach and send her away. The Medic walked over to her. "Hold still, Schweinhund, zis will only sting for a moment." The Medic said with an insane grin on his face. He lifted his bonesaw into the air, and brought it down straight into Mercy's chest. Blood spurted out onto his hand as Mercy screamed. The Medic ripped out the saw, eliciting more screams, and plunged the saw through Mercy's head, silencing her forever.

The man stood up, hefting Mercy's body onto his shoulders. He reached into a pocket in his pants, and pulled out a phone. He hit a single button and waited for it to connect. "It's done. Zhey're all dead." He said. "Yes, ve have zhe bodies. Ve're about to finish it up. Understood." The Medic ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket. He then began the trek back to Reinhardt's house, only pausing briefly to scoop up Mercy's staff.

Winston was sitting in his office again, mourning the loss of one of his closest friends. He went back to the news site he had visited before, only to find even more bad news. **GERMANY DE-HEROED,** the headline read. Winston ignored the article, his disbelieving eyes focusing on the picture. It showed the corpses of the German members of Overwatch pinned to a wall. Mercy had one arm bent the wrong way, and two thin holes through her body, one in her head and one in her chest. Torbjörn was much worse, a burn line across his body, and half of his head caved in, exposing his brains to the world. Reinhardt was the worst of them all, with bruises covering his entire body, several dozen holes from what were probably shotgun blasts covering his body, his limbs all broken, and his head smashed flat. Above them was written in red paint, **That's four, Scheinhunds.** Winston felt tears come to his eyes even as his rage sent yellow lightning coursing over his body. He roared to the heavens, asking, no begging for an answer as to why his friends and teammates were all being killed. Then he fell to the ground, his rage leaving him as he began to sob.


	3. Chapter 3: Spy vs Sombra

A/N: *chuckles nervously* Hi guys. Soooooo... I bet most of you forgot that this was even a thing, huh? Yeah, I'm so sorry. I really don't have any excuse, other than I've been busy with both school stuff and doing some other writing that I haven't posted. I should probably have warned all of you that the updates for this would be sporadic at best. I wish that I could give you a massive chapter to make up for it, but all I can do is try to update more often. Now, on with the long-delayed chapter!

Sombra was on a long term mission in Dorado, and was sitting in a small hotel room with all her tech set up. She had been ordered to try to figure out who had been murdering Overwatch members. She was going through the records of all the major players in the world, seeing who had the money, power and desire to kill Overwatch. Sombra sighed, resting her head in her hand. The security of all these rich people were nothing compared to the woman who had hacked Volskaya Industries, but there was nothing on most of them even distantly related to Overwatch. She exited the thirty-fourth computer she had hacked into, and started hacking into the next computer. This one belonged to some old, rich asshole named Redmond Mann. She started hacking into his database, surprised that his computer had some pretty good security on it. Just as she had almost cracked his security, all her tech, as well as the lights in the room, shut down. Sombra looked up, startled. "Dios mierda," she muttered under her breath. She stood up and started walking towards the door, only for it to open before she got there. In the dark, she could see a small speck of light.

Sombra started, jumping back and grabbing her machine pistol from her desk. She brought it up and aimed it at the mysterious spark. "Who are you?" She shouted. She heard a soft chuckle. The spark went out, and a small fire appeared from a lighter, She saw what looked like a man in a blue ski mask. He gave a small grin. "Ah, Mademoiselle. I am ze Spy. I know who you have been looking for, ze people who have been killing ze members of Overwatch. I have been sent to inform you zat my allies are ze ones who have been killing all ze so-called heroes." Sombra was shocked. "So what do you want from me?" She asked. The Spy smirked. "Well, first, we wanted to make sure you didn't find anything on us before we spoke to you. Second, we wanted to speak to Talon about working with us." Sombra smirked. "Sorry amigo, I don't have the authority to make deals for Talon. Besides." She raised her machine pistol. "I don't trust you."

She opened fire, the bullets striking the Spy directly in the chest. He collapsed to the ground in a spray of blood. Sombra smirked, lowering her gun to her side. She stiffened, however, when a razor-sharp knife pushed up against her neck. She glanced to the right, and her heart stopped when she saw the Spy standing there, a cocky smirk on his face. "Ah, mademoiselle, I'm not zat easy to keel. I hope zat you will be willing to talk now?" Sombra scoffed. "Sure, trust the guy who's holding a knife to my neck. How stupid do you think I am?" Spy shrugged. "Stupid enough to attempt to shoot a guy named the Spy and expect him not to be prepared." Sombra gritted her teeth. "Well, did you think I wouldn't be prepared?" Sombra activated her Stealth ability, and slipped out of her captors grasp. She sprinted out of the hotel room, getting away from the hotel as fast as she could. Her ability wore off as she ran outside. Pausing, she began panting for breath, confident that the Spy wouldn't be able to reach her. After all, she had turned invisible and ran, he couldn't possibly have followed her- she heard a gunshot and felt a sharp pain in her side. Collapsing to a single knee, she grabbed at her side. She looked over to the left, just in time to see the Spy casually walking over, a smoking pistol held in his hand. He slipped the pistol back into his suit, and pulled out a cigarette case.

He calmly lit his cigarette, and replaced his cigarette case. He grabbed her by the neck and lifted her into the air. "Well, mademoiselle, I suppose zhere's no chance in us working togezher now. I believe my only choice is to dispose of you and take all of your information." Sombra barked out a raspy laugh. "Good luck with that, amigo. My things are all DNA locked." Spy chuckled. "True, but do you need to be alive?" Before Sombra could say anything, the spy pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket. Flipping it open, the Spy stabbed forward into Sombras neck. He carefully cut off a small chunk of flesh. "Let's see if my friends can make a permanent transformation device." He pulled his cigarette case out of his inside pocket, and transformed into an exact duplicate of Sombra. He ran as fast as he could to Sombra's hotel. Looking at the row of computers, he sighed. "Zhis could take a while."

The Medic was sitting in his laboratory, running a series of experiments on the bodies of Overwatch members as well as their technology. He heard the door to his laboratory slam open, and spun around to see the Spy barging into his laboratory. The Frenchman threw a small flash drive at him, which he almost missed. "Zhat is all of zhe data zhat zhe Sombra girl had. I intercepted zhe Blu Spy and duplicated zhe data that he had." Medic held up the flash drive and chuckled. "Excellent, excellent, mein freund. Bring this to the Engineer, let him go through what you got." The Spy nodded. "Any results from the gear we stole?" Medic grinned. "Yes indeed. The staff we got from Mercy is absolutely fascinating. This biotic energy has so much potential, especially if I can combine it with my healing ray. I could heal our allies twice as fast! And combining this damage booster with my Ubercharge could make us both invincible and twice as strong! If I can repurpose the biotic energy to have the inverse effect, I can make our enemies weaker or drain their health, then send the health back into one of our allies. And don't even get me started on what I can do with these wings! We can drop an army on our enemies heads without them knowing until it's too late." The Spy grinned at Medics excitement. "And what has the Engineer gotten done with the other gear?" Medic waved a hand dismissively. "Go talk with him about that. I'm currently running experiments on the body of this Tracer. I want to see if I can replicate her chronal disassociation, and therefore her powers." Spy nodded, snatched up the flash drive, and left the room.

Walking through the base, Spy entered the Engineer's garage. He found the Southern man drinking a beer as he typed away at a computer, with half-disassembled Overwatch gear scattered all over. Spy tossed the hard rive to the Engineer, who deftly caught it and plugged it into his computers. The Engineer whistled happily. "Well, well, well. This is quite a prize. How the hell did you get all of this data?" The Spy smirked. "I need to keep some secrets, don't I, mon ami?" Engineer chuckled. "Well, either way, what we have here is a crapton of data on all of Overwatch's members, and the members of Talon, and a couple of mercenaries. In other words, all the people we need to kill." Spy grinned. "Well, get started on going through all of this data." Engineer nodded. "You got it. Got anymore Overwatch gear for me to work with?" Spy shook his head. "Zhe girl had cybernetic enhancements. Medic will be examining her body. We'll see if he sends you down the enhancements after we steal the girls body." Engineer nodded. "Right. Well, you go do something," Spy chuckled. "Keep working with that gear."

Winston slumped down in his seat. Filled with fear, he went to the news site of doom, as he had now termed it. He looked for any news of Overwatch members being killed, but only found news of a murder and trashed hotel room in Dorado, Mexico. Winston sighed in relief, not knowing that this seemingly inconsequential murder was building up to the death of everyone he knew, as well as himself.

 **A/N 2: Sorry there wasn't much action in this chapter, but I was just trying to make it how I think it would go. Sorry again for it taking so long to post this chapter, but I promise that I will try to update more often. Thanks so much for reading, all the reviews, and everything else. Feel free to give me feedback on how to improve my writing. See you in the next chapter! (AKA next year :))**


	4. Mercs vs Mercs

**A/N: *nervous chuckle* Well, it's been over a year since I updated this. Umm… sorry? I really have no excuse, but thank you to all the people who left reviews, followed, and favorited my story. You guys are the best! Sorry for making you wait so long. Now please don't break my kneecaps. Enjoy! *runs away***

Junkrat flopped back in his seat, swivelling around. He was BOOOOOOOOORED. Roadhog had gone out to get the two of them some food, and he was all out of things to do. He grabbed a bomb from his table, and started tossing it from hand to hand. Frustrated, he threw it into the corner of the warehouse he and Roadhog were camping out in. Spinning back to the table as the bomb exploded, he started making another. Absentmindedly, he switched on a small TV that was sitting on the corner of his table.

" _And in continuation of the recent spree of deaths, the body of a young woman was recently found in Dorado, Mexico. Police reports have determined that she had rented a hotel room, and upon investigation, discovered it to be full of high-level computers, prime for hacking. The leading theory is that she was a member of the global terrorist organization, Talon. The police have run DNA scans on her, fingerprint tests, retinal scans, all of it, but have not found any hint of her identity. In other news, the wealthy siblings Redmond and Blutarch Mann have finally put aside their longtime rivalry and are working together for what may be the first time in their lives."_

Junkrat leaned back, absolutely stunned as the anchorwoman continued talking about the projects Redmond and Blutarch were talking about. _Overwatch is being wiped out?_ Slowly, an insane grin spread over the pyromaniacs face. _That means less people to mess with me and Roadie!_ He heard the warehouse door open, and his obese bodyguards plodding footsteps, accompanied by the jingling of the chains on his Scrap Gun. The instant he saw Roadhog, Junkrat leapt towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Roadie! Guess what's happening? Go on, take a wild guess!"

Roadhog pushed Junkrat away from him. " **How about you just tell me?"** he said, his voice muffled by the gas mask on his face. Junkrat pouted. "You're no fun. Fine, fine I'll tell you. People who used to be part of Overwatch? They're getting murdered!" Roadhog shrugged as he plopped their food on the stack of tires that served as their table, then dropped himself onto a stool. " **And why should we care about that?"** Junkrats jaw dropped. "You're joking, right? Don't you see?! This means less people are going to try and stop us when we go and blow things up!"

Junkrat began giggling as he imagined the carnage they could cause. Roadhog just shrugged. He pulled a burger made of questionable meat out of the bag, then went to take off his gas mask so he could eat. Before he could, the wall of their warehouse exploded. Both reflexively took cover from the chunks of wall flying everywhere. Junkrat snatched his Frag Launcher off of the table, while Roadhog stood up, his hand on the handle of his Scrapgun. As the smoke faded, two figures stood there. Figures that looked very familiar. The Demoman and the Heavy stood in the hole, staring at the two other mercenaries. They had all met a couple times before, due to their careers. Demo and Junkrat had swapped explosive tips, and Heavy and Roadhog had a friendly rivalry, mainly focused on who was stronger. Now though, the two Red mercenaries looked deadly serious.

Demo was wearing his normal gear, and had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a grenade launcher in the other. Heavy however, was wearing some kind of mechanical armor, and had a large hammer in one hand. Junkrat shouted, "Hey, what's the big idea, ya buggers! If you wanted to come in, you coulda just knocked!" Demo shook his head, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Unfortunately, lad, me and the big guy were given a job. We were told to hunt down and kill you two." Junkrat raised his Frag Launcher and scowled, "You don't have ta do this, mates. Just say you couldn't find us. We don't need to fight." Heavy shook his head sadly. "Sorry, little friend. We do not have a choice in this matter. If ve do not kill you, we will be killed ourselves. And you will be killed by others in time."

Roadhog stood up, unslinging his Scrapgun from his back. " **Don't forget, Heavy, you haven't been able to beat me yet."** The Russian merc smirked. "Yes, but now, this is no holds barred. Also, I have been given _wonderful_ new toys." Holding up the hammer, Heavy hit a switch on the handle, causing the handle to retract.

The head swiveled around, and the handle reattached in two places. The massive hammer had turned into his trusty minigun. "I call this one _Revolvter_. Because it revolves, and who it is used on end up quite revolting to look at." Ignoring his comrades facepalming, Heavy opened fire on Roadhog without any more banter. Roadhog dove out of the way, his speed belying his massive frame. Snatching his hook from his waist, the massive man flung it out with unflinching accuracy, straight at Heavy's midsection.

Yanking the Russian towards him, Roadhog readied his Scrapgun, only for a grenade to strike his side, knocking him off his feet. Standing up, and brushing off dust from a blast that would have killed anyone else, Roadhog was forced on the defensive by Heavy swinging the Revolvter in hammer form at his head. The fat merc caught it, pushing back against the Heavy. The explosion, of course, came from the Demoman, who until that point had been trading shots with Junkrat, dodging the grenades that came too close for comfort.

But when Demo fired at Roadhog, Junkrat took advantage of his lapse in focus to launch a grenade over Demo's head, angled to bounce towards him, while firing another one straight for Demo's head. The Scottish merc could dodge out of the way of the one aiming at his head, but missed the ricocheting one. Unfortunately for him, it didn't. Knocked forward by the explosion, Demo took advantage of the blast, and snatching his bottle of whiskey from his belt, rolled to a stop, and charged towards the shocked Junkrat, spilling whiskey across the floor.

Junkrat tried to aim his Frag Launcher, but Demo snatched it from his hands and tossed it aside. Junkrat kept backpedaling from the wildly swinging Scot, but eventually hit a massive crate. He closed his eyes and raised his arms...and heard a shattering, and felt no pain. Cracking his eyes open, Junkrat saw the bottle broken, and whiskey covering his robotic arm... _Oh right. I have one of those._ Junkrat grinned. He threw a wild punch at Demo, which the drunkard managed to dodge. But not the peg leg coming up between his legs. Wincing in sympathy, Junkrat nonetheless kept kicking at the fallen man, a sadistic grin coming over his face. Heavy, still locked in his struggle with Roadhog, saw what was happening to his ally. "Time for games is over." he muttered, looking at Roadhog with a dead serious expression.

"Now you die."

The Russian mimicked the move the previous owner of his armor had used on him, activating the rocket boosters to break the deadlock. Roadhog gritted his teeth under his mask as he used every ounce of his irradiated strength to fight back against the Heavy's push, but he could feel his feet slipping. The Australian released the hammer and dropped to the floor, letting the Russian fly over his head. As Heavy skidded to a halt, he swung the hammer, releasing a wave of fire straight at Junkrat. The pyromaniac looked up to see the wave flying for him, and the next thing he saw was a jumble of floor, ceiling, and crate, then he only saw the crate, since his face was pressed up against it. As Junkrat slid to the ground and Demo staggered to his feet, Heavy turned his attention back to Roadhog. Using his rocket pack to launch into the air, Heavy brought the hammer down. He smashed the hammer across the floor, cracking the ground, red-hot energy radiating from it.

The force of the blast knocked Roadhog off his feet, and before he could get up, Heavy's armored foot was on his hand. "I'm truly sorry, Roadhog. But this was the only way this could end." Raising the hammer, Heavy brought it down, smashing Roadhog's head to a red paste.

"ROADIE!" Junkrat shouted, forcing himself to his feet. "You sons of bitches, I'll kill you! I'll-" Junkrat was cut off by a fist to the jaw, knocking him back off his feet.

Demoman grabbed the skinny Australian by the neck, hoisting him off the ground. "Sorry about this, laddie." Demoman said, somberly. "But hey…" Demo said, pulling a grenade from his belt. "At least you'll go out with a _bang_."

Ignoring Junkrat's weak kicking, Demo forced the grenade down Junkrat's mouth, wedging it in his jaw so he couldn't spit it out. Dropping him to the floor, Demo backed up, pulling out his sticky launcher. Junkrat screamed in rage, his anger reduced to mere noise, spittle flying from his mouth around the grenade.

Demo launched his sticky grenade right into Junkrat's face, knocking the psychotic Australian off his feet for the third time.

He pressed a button on the side of his sticky launcher, detonating both the sticky grenade and the regular one, evaporating Junkrat in a burst of flame.

Sighing, Demoman turned to Heavy. "Let's go, fatso." He said to Heavy. "We've got to get back to base, and let the twins know that we got 'em." Scowling from the insult, Heavy nonetheless followed Demo out through the hole they had blown in the wall.

Winston was still sitting at his computer. He hadn't slept, ate, had anything to drink at all, in several days.

He was coordinating several Overwatch members across the world, as well as digging through all the evidence he could find to discover who it was who had been attacking Overwatch. No matter how deep he dug, however, he couldn't find any trace of who they were.

These people were clearly professionals, but who were they working for? Could it have been Talon, back again? But there was no way they had enough power back to assassinate high-ranking members of Overwatch.

Torbjörn and Mercy, as much as he respected them, weren't the best suited for combat. But Tracer and Reinhardt? There was no way Talon could be able to take out the two of them. Winston stiffened as he heard heavy footsteps behind him, slowly reaching for his Tesla Cannon.

"I'm not here to kill you, Winston." A familiar gravely voice called out. Winston started, turning around. Standing behind him was a tall man, wearing a blue and white leather jacket, and a metal mask covering his face, with a glowing red eye slit.

"Jack? But...I thought you were dead!" Winston exclaimed.

Jack walked forward silently, and peered over Winston's shoulder. On the screen were the pictures of Tracer, Reinhardt, Mercy and Torbjörn. Behind his mask, Jack scowled. His former comrades, his friends, were murdered.

He had only one thing to do. "Winston. What information do you have on the people who did this?"

Winston sighed. "Pretty much none. They're pros, as far as I can tell. They've left evidence of their attacks, but nothing I can use to trace back to them. Nobody even saw them...nailing up the corpses."

Jack straightened up. "We know one thing. They're only going after Overwatch. Not only that, they went after some of the more visible members. Tracer was a massive hero, Reinhardt was famous for defending people, Torbjörn helped evolve technology significantly, and Mercy was an amazing doctor, not to mention a leader in the biotics field. So if one of the more famous members came back, then they would go after him."

Winston spun around. "Jack-" Jack straightened up. "I need to find some criminals, make a big comeback."

Jack Morrison turned around, revealing the red 76 on his back. He walked over to a gun cabinet, and opening it up, pulled out an old friend.

Checking over the Heavy Pulse Rifle, he slung it over his back. "Winston. You've been a good friend. If I don't come back, don't give up on Overwatch. Keep them searching for the killers."

"Jack. What are you planning to do?" Winston said. Jack paused, looking over his shoulder.

"The only way I'm coming back here is with the heads of the people who did this to our friends." Walking on, Jack Morrison stepped through the door...and Soldier 76 stepped out of the last base of Overwatch.

 **A/N 2: Well guys, here it is. I hope it was worth the wait of over a year. I will be setting up a regular schedule for writing now, so hopefully, there won't be as long a wait for the other chapters. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my story, and was willing to wait for a chapter, and I will see you guys in the next chapter!...Coming 4099.**


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